


Out of Camelot

by amelia_petkova



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: au_bingo, Episode Re-Write, Gen, Season/Series 02, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-09
Updated: 2010-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_petkova/pseuds/amelia_petkova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene in 2x08 goes differently. Written for the "Alternate History: Author's Choice" square on my bingo card. A more detailed summary containing spoilers can be found in the Author's Notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Camelot

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed Summary: Morgause has a burst of common sense and tells Morgana that they’re sisters.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
> 
> Originally posted to my LJ in July of 2010. This fic ignores Season 3 canon for a couple of reasons: it's an AU and I wrote it before Season 3 started.
> 
> Thanks to netgirl_y2k for beta-reading.

Standing in the guest chambers of the lady knight, Morgana stared at the wide silver bracelet engraved with intricate designs. “It’s beautiful.”

Morgause slipped the bracelet off her wrist and held it out. “It belonged to my mother. I’d like you to have it.”

Morgana shook her head but didn’t look away.

“Please.” The proud knight who had fought her way into Uther’s hall seemed to hesitate. “It was given to her by our father.”

“What did you say?”

“Gorlois…he had more than one child. We’re sisters.”

Morgana stepped back. Her voice turned cold. “That’s an unamusing jest.”

“It’s the truth.”

“We look nothing alike.”

“You can thank our mothers for that.” Morgause smiled wryly. “Gorlois parted from my mother before I was born but he sent the bracelet to her.”

“I came to Camelot because all my family had died,” Morgana said. “Did you know that?”

The older woman nodded.

“If you’re my sister, _why didn’t you come for me_?”

“I was sent away as a baby. I wasn’t told about you until many years later and even then, I couldn’t leave immediately. But I always thought of meeting you. And I’m here now.” She reached out her other hand then pulled back.

“I need to think.” Morgana turned away.

“Wait.” Morgause pressed the bracelet into the younger woman’s hands. “I hope you will remember me fondly.”

Morgana hid the bracelet in the folds of her skirts. She paused at the door. “Does Uther know about us?”

“He might.”

#

Morgana entered the room without knocking, interrupting Morgause as she folded her belongings into a saddlebag. She wore the bracelet. “Take me with you.”

Morgause grasped her hands. “What is the matter?”

“All throughout supper I played with it. I hinted at the topic a dozen times but he still denies knowing of you before this visit. How dare he keep this from me?”

“It is possible that he doesn’t know who I am. He probably would not have let me leave Camelot as a child if he had known.”

“I don’t care. He’s lied about too many things before and twisted the truth too many times. Take me wherever you’re going.”

“Are you sure?”

“I need to get away from him. I can’t think straight.”

“Very well. Meet me at the stables in ten minutes. Don’t be seen.”

#

Morgana arrived at the stables, having run to her chambers only long enough to grab a dark cloak. The stable boys slept at the door. Despite such a short time being apart, Morgause had already arrived and saddled both horses. Morgana bit down the urge to giggle as they walked the horses out and the boys didn’t stir at the jangling of bridles and the clattering of hooves. They mounted and rode to the castle gate. The guards there also slept.

As they came to the forest at the city’s edges, she felt lightheaded. Possibly it was due to having more wine than food at supper, but also at the sense that she was leaving behind a part of her life that no longer fit, like a dress worn out at the elbows and hem.

The trees didn’t rustle in the still night and even the constant woodland noises seemed quieter than normal. They had traveled only a quarter-mile before Morgause stopped and put a hand to her sword. “Somebody’s following us.”

The two women waited. A cloaked figure riding a horse loaded with packs came into view. “My lady?” a familiar voice asked.

Morgana gave a hiccup of laughter. “Gwen, what are you doing here?”

Gwen moved into a patch of moonlight. “I saw you riding away and thought you might have forgotten to bring any of the things you would need.”

“You don’t even know where we’re going.”

Gwen ignored this and gave one of her affectionately scolding looks. “You didn’t change out of your gown from supper; I brought some clothing more suitable for travel, if you like. I also brought your sword.”

Morgana looked down at her wide sleeves and the ribbons on her bodice. Her cheeks flushed. She dismounted and went over to Gwen, who held up her cloak for Morgana to change behind. Morgause kept a tactful silence.

“You shouldn’t have snuck out,” Morgana said. “You don’t even know where we’re going.” Morgana said.

“I’m happy to go alongside you once you tell me.”

Morgana opened her mouth, then blushed again and shut it. She turned to Morgause.

“We’re going to my home,” the older woman said. “It will be easier to explain things further once we’re there. If we don’t stop during the night, we’ll arrive by dawn. I would like to continue now, in case any others should come along. I’m not hosting all of Uther’s castle,” she warned.

“What made you run away so suddenly?” Gwen asked as she and Morgana followed Morgause. “I wasn’t aware of any new arguments with the king this week.”

“Morgause told me something. She said—“ Morgana stopped and cleared her throat.

Gwen moved her horse closer and brushed Morgana’s hand.

“She said that she’s my sister.”

“Is it the truth?”

“She has a bracelet that belonged to our father.”

“I can see it,” Gwen said after a few moments spent examining Morgana’s face.

“We don’t look alike!” Morgana protested.

“You hold yourselves the same way. When she was fighting Arthur, she moved like you do.”

“That’s impossible. We never met before yesterday?”

Gwen shrugged.

The three women spoke little during the rest of the night. The horses trotted along a faint road that wound through the forest. Though she had ventured into the forest that surrounded Camelot many times, Morgana had never seen this road before. Despite the steady pace, Morgana and Gwen occasionally dozed off.

Sunlight had started to leak into the forest when they arrived at the shore of a lake. A partly-ruined castle stood on an island in the lake’s center. Gwen and Morgana stopped; Morgause continued on. She paused and looked back, her horse knee-deep in water. “The lake is shallower than it looks,” she said. “Don’t worry; it’s perfectly safe.”

Morgana and Gwen exchanged a doubting look but followed. The three women crossed to the island. They stabled the horses in a courtyard.

There were no sounds of other people. Only birds chirped in the few trees and small waves lapped up against the island’s shore. Morgause led them into the main hall. She pulled off her jacket and dropped it. The jacket halted in midair and folded itself before settling on a shelf by the door. Curtains tied themselves back from the windows, letting daylight into the room.

Gwen and Morgana stared at this casual display of magic. Even if she had control over her powers, Morgana would never have used them in such a fashion while in Camelot, where even a hint of sorcery warranted an execution.

“Did you know she was a sorceress?” Gwen whispered.

Morgana shook her head. “But if magic runs in families, that would explain my dreams.”

“She hid it so well. I wonder how much sorcery there is in Camelot that escapes the king’s notice. Do you think she used magic to defeat Arthur?”

“I doubt it. Arthur may be skilled at combat but I can still defeat him, even on a day when I’ve slept poorly.”

In a surprisingly domestic manner for somebody who stormed into castles and ran away with the King’s Ward and the Ward’s maid in the middle of the night, Morgause served them breakfast. That is to say, she sat them down at the table in the main hall, disappeared into an adjoining room, and returned in only minutes with plates of fully cooked food.

As they ate Morgana asked, “What about Arthur? You said he promised to come to you in just a few days.”

“Do you want to meet with him?” Morgause asked.

“I don’t know.”

“The king locked Arthur in his room and posted guards at the door,” Gwen said.

Morgana raised an eyebrow.

“It happened just before I left the castle.”

Morgause laughed. “Even if the prince should manage to escape his childish imprisonment, I changed the directions that I gave his horse before leaving the stables. He will ride through the forest for a few hours before being led home.”

“I wish I could see his face when he returns to the castle with no idea how he got there,” Morgana said dreamily in the same tone of voice she used when speculating that he might trip on his cloak during a banquet.

Gwen hid a smile behind her napkin.

All three women were nodding over their plates by the end of the meal. As they left the table, Gwen made a token protest about helping with the cleaning-up.

Morgause waved this aside. “Don’t bother; the dishes will be taken care of.”

Gwen peeked into the kitchen as they walked by: an invisible touch pumped water into a bucket. The bucket floated to a tub without spilling a drop. The dirty dishes soared past her and landed with a splash in the tub.

#

The next morning, Morgana and Morgause sat in Morgause’s workroom. Gwen watched from the doorway.

“You know how to do it; you just don’t know how to control it. Like this.” Morgause held out a cupped hand. A wisp of flame appeared above her palm. “In the end, it all depends on concentration. Imagine exactly how it will appear and then tell it to come.” The flame changed colors before extinguishing itself in a tiny puff of smoke.

Morgana extended her hand. She thought of a tiny fire no larger than her thumb. It would be very bright, like the wick of a newly-lit candle. It would hover in the air. She would control it and it would not burn her bed curtains. A small, sharp ache began in her head.

Now.

They heard a crack! The flame appeared. It sputtered and bobbed, but it was there. Morgana looked up and smiled.

The moment she glanced away, the flame spun away. It shot across the room, singeing Morgana’s sleeve on the way out and leaving a sooty mark where it was absorbed by the stone wall. She looked more annoyed by the hole in her dress than by the loss of control.

Gwen suggested keeping buckets of water in the room and rolling back their sleeves while practicing.

#

Although being a maid was not the easiest employment, particularly in Uther’s castle, Gwen had settled into a rhythm during her years of work. There was mending, cleaning, accompanying Morgana to events, helping out with the odd tasks around the castle in her few spare moments, and occasionally assisting her father with his blacksmith’s duties.

Of all the ways Gwen had thought her life might change after running away with Morgana to live on an island with a sorceress, ways to fill her time had not been at the top of the list. Even though in the past she might sometimes wish for a few less errands, she was accustomed to the pace. She had not expected dishes that washed themselves, blankets that folded themselves the minute their occupant stepped out of bed, and the horses being cared for by invisible hands.

“You may not believe this, but my kitchen is capable of taking care of itself,” Morgause said one morning when she encountered Gwen attempting to help polish the silver. The rag kept whisking itself out of her hands.

“I’m unused to having nothing to do,” Gwen explained.

Morgause, in her cool way, almost looked amused. “My apologies. I had not thought I would need to schedule entertainment for my sister’s companion.”

As a maid, Gwen had enough occasional to practice control so that she didn’t sneer at nobles who said rude things, whether they intended to or not, but she did feel any pretense at a friendly expression leave her face. “I had not expected that my mistress would suddenly learn of an older sister, my lady.”

“My apologies.” Morgause looked consideringly at her. “I do not think you have any talent for magic.”

“I agree, my lady. I do have some skill at forging,” she offered.

“There’s a small smithy near where the horses are kept,” the sorceress said. “I use it little myself but it is functional. There should be supplies for anything that may interest you.”

“Thank you.”

#

On an island with no court sessions, tournaments, or executions to break up the hours, the days and nights flowed together. The magic lessons passed from the conjuring of fire, to scrying, to moving heavy objects. Morgana gained more control over her powers although the first time she attempted to make the kitchen tidy itself, all the glasses broke and Morgause had to reassemble them. Gwen giggled when she heard of that incident and Morgana used her magic to tweak Gwen’s curls in response. Occasionally they sparred. Although very productive, it wasn’t quite as much fun without taunting Arthur at the same time.

Once she woke in the middle of the night—due to thirst rather than a nightmare—and, seeing the moon through her window, realized that it had completed a cycle of its phases since they left Camelot.

The following day, Gwen found her sitting near the waterfall. She sat down next to Morgause. The spray dampened their skirts and clung to their faces. Gwen sat next to her at the shore. “Are you going to go back?”

Morgana sighed. “I can’t decide. Everything is easier here but…Do you want to return to Camelot?”

“There’s little remaining for me there.”

“What would Arthur do if he heard you say that?” Morgana teased.

Gwen smiled. “That does complicate things. But I wouldn’t need to return for anything else, really.”

“Don’t you miss Camelot? You’re only here because I decided to run off in the middle of the night. I would think you’d be bored.”

“It is impossible to be bored around you, my lady,” Gwen said with a hint of a smile. Then even the dimples in her face disappeared. “It is not easy—“ she paused and swallowed “—it can be difficult living in a place where people you grew up with look at you differently after your father has been executed for sorcery.”

Morgana took Gwen’s hand. “When your father tried to escape, I knew about it.”

Gwen looked at the curtain of water as she spoke. “Of course you did. Everybody in the castle talked, even when they knew I was listening.”

“He shouldn’t have died. He was supposed to make it out of the castle.”

“My lady?”

“I’m responsible,” Morgana said. “I took the key from Arthur’s room and gave it to your father.”

Gwen pulled her hand away and stood up. “I have some mending to do.”

“Gwen—“

“Excuse me, my lady.” She curtsied and walked away.

#

By this time Morgana knew every room in the castle, but she couldn’t find Gwen. Over an hour later, the other woman was nowhere to be seen.

Beginning a second turn through the castle, she came across Morgause. Her sister sat in a room filled with the afternoon sun, winding thread around a drop spindle. Morgana couldn’t resist saying, “That’s surprisingly domestic for you.”

Morgause looked amused at her reaction. “String can be used for a variety of purposes. Magic can be used even through sewing, though I have no interest in sitting at a tapestry.”

“I don’t think the court ladies who insisted I learn how to embroider had that in mind.”

Morgana watched the wool twist into thread. “What was your mother like? I never knew mine.”

“She parted from Gorlois before I was born. She was living in Camelot at the time and we even remained there for several months before I was sent away to the druids for an education.”

“Did she die?”

“Gorlois had married by then. Several people had known he was the father of her child and nobody wanted his bastard around as a threat. She sent me away for safety, then left Camelot herself. I was told that she died several years later.”

“Do you remember her at all?”

Morgause paused in her work. “She liked to have flowers in the house. I remember their fragrance.”

“Mine died before I could walk. The servants said she had gone out riding. It was autumn and a storm was approaching but she said a little water was no bother. She was in the rain for over an hour before she reached the castle; a cough settled in her chest and she was gone by the new year.”

“I’m sorry.” Morgause spun the spindle again. “But what is it that really troubles you?”

“Gwen is angry with me and I can’t find her. I was tired of all the secrets from Camelot but maybe I shouldn’t have revealed this one.”

Morgause looked at her fondly. “And what have you done that’s so terrible?”

“Uther executed Gwen’s father because he—Tom—was doing some work for an alchemist. I encouraged her father to escape and gave him the key. But the guards caught him before he even made it out of the dungeon.”

“Do you think she blames you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have meddled. If I’d been more clever, I could have distracted the guards while he escaped.”

Morgause came to the end of her pile of wool. “Now you know one of the things that magic can be used for. If you are strong enough, you can keep other people safe from Uther.” She put a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

#

Gwen didn’t appear at supper. After eating, Morgana tried once more knocking on the door to Gwen’s bedchamber, though the other woman hadn’t been there earlier; this time, Gwen answered. It didn’t look as though she had been crying but her face didn’t show any emotion at all.

Even before entering the room, Morgana blurted out, “Do you hate me?”

Gwen stepped back and let Morgana into the room. “You should have told me when it happened.”

“I was responsible. I was afraid of how you would look at me.”

“I don’t know if I’m angry. It’s hard to tell anymore. I know that he would have been executed, no matter what he did. Even if he had escaped from the castle, Uther would have caught him before he could leave Camelot.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Always, my lady.” She paused. “But you can’t keep things like that from me anymore. There are too many secrets in Camelot. I couldn’t stand it if you hid something that important from me again.”

“I won’t.”

They sat on the deep window seat. “Did you decide if we are returning to Camelot?” Gwen asked.

Morgana smiled. “I won’t go back but let our friends come to us if they wish.”


End file.
